


Like It Used to Be

by HolleringHawk65



Series: Batjokes Week 2015 [6]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, implied sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 17:32:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4573410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolleringHawk65/pseuds/HolleringHawk65
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day Six: Couple's Counseling</p>
<p>The Joker hasn't felt right in a while. Maybe Bruce can do something to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like It Used to Be

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trash.  
> Idk, I'm not really happy about with this but it's like four o'clock so I figured I might as well throw this up here.

On their first visit, the psychiatrist told them to make themselves comfortable… he took this as an open invitation to sprawl himself out on the couch (and, subsequently, Bruce) how ever he saw fit. Maybe it was the whole ‘deprived of everything that once made him _him_ ’ thing that made Bruce just let him be.

He didn’t like talking to the woman, since she reminded him too much of Harley. He’d take his meds before they would go so that he’d be sleepy and Bruce wouldn’t _make_ him talk, though later on he’d ask him the same questions as she would.

Oh, he did love it when Bruce put a hand in between his shoulders though. His eyes closed and he hummed softly.

"John? How are you feeling today?" He detested being called John. It reminded him of Crane, made his hands itch.

"Tired," he muttered after a moment. "I would like to go home."

Bruce pressed down, tried to be comforting without words... It didn't really work. They both knew that they had to go to 'couple's counseling' once a week, but it was really just hiding (the improved) Arkham's psychiatrist doing their weekly report.

He stretched out a little bit before sitting up. Something about people _trying_ to deceive him always breathed a breath of fresh air into him. "Do you really want to know how I feel?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bruce shift. His hand had fallen away and was now resting on his own thigh. The psychiatrist hesitated before nodding. "Of course. We're all friends here, aren't we?"

"I hate my life. I feel like it was drained of color. Slowly, _I'm_ losing color while everyone else keeps moving. The heroes keep saving, the villains keep killing. Was I ever important? To anyone? I thought that I was a supporting column, someone who couldn't be removed, but _look_. My spot was quickly filled in with another person. I'm nothing.

"Don't get me wrong. I love it at the Wayne manor. I love Bruce and I love the kids, and maybe I'm starting to feel like I have a family. Maybe I had that once with Harley, I _can't remember._ " He took a deep breath and looked over at Bruce, feeling like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs. "I miss me."

* * *

 

Bruce had their dinner brought up to the bedroom. He wasn't afraid to admit that he was worried about his boyfriend. It hadn't even been two years since they had started this reform, and in that time, the Joker had given up everything. He didn't even have any freedom. Bruce had told himself that this was all for the best, that he wanted to help him because he loved him--and it had grown from twisted love not something resembling _normal_ some how.

He sat on the bed next to him, reaching out to run his hair through dirty blond curls. He had never known the Joker with such curly hair before.

Maybe he should have noticed that. Questioned it. But he hadn't.

He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him up. "You should really eat."

"I should." White hands covered wrapped around Bruce's wrists, a thumb rubbing over the inside of each.

He sighed before nuzzling his neck. "What can I do?"

The Joker was silent before he looked up at Bruce, meeting his bright blue eyes. "We could play a game."

"Oh?"

He turned around, straddling Bruce, thin fingers already working on undoing his tie. "We could. And it could be nice, fast, and rough, like it used to be."

The Joker grabbed the lube from the nightstand and handed it to him. "Come on, Batsy. I know you wanna play."

He undid all of the buttons, pushing Bruce's shirt off of his shoulders. He, himself, was already bare chested, only a pair of Bruce's sweatpants resting loosely on his hips.

He sat there, _waiting_ for Bruce to do something. _Come on, come on._

He was not disappointed.

* * *

 

He sat in Bruce's lap, a blanket wrapped around their legs. The soup that Alfred had made was cold by now, but the bread was still soft. He didn't really care, since he was surrounded by Bruce and his warmth.

"I love you," Bruce reminded him, placing his hands on the Joker's stomach, kissing his neck.

He hummed, looking up at Bruce. There was a bit of tomato soup in the corner of his mouth and, as if he noticed Bruce staring at it, he wiped it off with his thumb before giving him a kiss on his jaw. "I know, Batsy."


End file.
